PERCY GETS THE JOB
He tried to pull it off, but that only hurt. He tried to bite it off, but that only hurt more and made it start to bleed.
He sighed: 'Admit it Percy. You are nervous. And sitting in a café in Basingstoke chewing your nails when isn't going to accomplish anything,' he thought to himself as he looked at his untouched breakfast.
'No it's not, is it?' said a loud voice in his ear, startling him.
'But it can't hurt, can it' said another voice in his other ear.
'What do mean? Just look at that thumb? said the first voice.
'Have some more tea old chap. That will make you feel better,' said third voice.
'That bun looks nice,' said a fourth.
Percy looked up and his eyes widened in amazement. Standing around him were an assortment of Doctors? Either that or they had got all the actors who had ever played him to pull some horrible practical joke, but there was Billy Hartnell and wasn't he dead?
'Patrick Troughton', 'Bill Hartnell' and 'Jon Pertwee' were looking down at him in concern, while 'Colin Baker' was currently eating his currant bun and 'Tom Baker' was eyeing off his orange juice with a mad sort of gleam in his eyes.
'Oh no,' he thought. 'I've gone mad.'
Patrick? - patted him reassuringly on the back. 'No you haven't. It's all real. Just think of it as a bit odd. That one always works for me,' he said smiling.
'And that is meant to make him feel better is it you nitwit?' retorted a man who looked exactly like Jon Pertwee.
'Shut UP you two' yelled someone from the back. 'Let me through. This one is mine thankyou' he bellowed as he swatted Doctors aside with his battered Panama.
Percy looked up at the newcomer and gasped.
The newcomer beamed at him. 'Yes it is a little odd, but I will explain, '
He then plonked himself down on a seat.
'I won't bore you with all the technical gobbledygook,' he said as he reached over and stole Percy's tea. For some reason, that no one has ever been able to explain - relative dimensions/freak web of time thingie/someone inversed the revision of the neutron flow/yada yada yada, I - that is we - are somehow inexorably linked to the BBC. Whomever they choose to play the Doctor determines, well - us - and what we look like,' he said as he gestured at a man who looked exactly like 'Peter Davison'.
But then 'Peter' smiled at him and suddenly he knew deep down that this man definitely wasn't Peter.
Suddenly 'Peter' fixed him with an intense stare. 'I say old chap. Do you want that scone?'
Percy could only shake his head mutely.
'Thanks awfully,' said 'Peter' as he started to smother it with jam and cream.
Percy's doppelganger smiled. 'Yes. That is Number Five. He was very pleased they picked Tristan.'
'We can be very vain sometimes,' said 'Patrick' looking pointedly at 'Jon', but 'Jon' merely sighed and mumbled 'get over it,' under his breath.
'And because you are going to be me, I am you. So we all thought we should pop around and say congrats and all that.'
'But I haven't got the job yet. I am still waiting to find out,' he said ashen faced.
The little man frowned and took out a gold pocket watch out of a truly awful vest adorned with little red question marks. 'Mmmmm, we're early,' he said menacingly to Five who merely smiled sheepishly through a mouthful of scone.
'Oh well. I think you can take it as a given,' said the seated man with a knowing smile.
Then he stood up and addressed the throng of Doctors. 'Come on chaps. Stop squabbling. Yes we can visit the zoo, the cricket ground and the Brigadier, but first breakfast. No jelly babies do not count. What do you mean you're not hungry now?' he admonished as he herded them off.
He counted them off: 'One, two three four five six. Six? Six where are you?' he yelled. 'Someone find Six - and get Eight away from that pet shop window before he buys a puppy. The TARDIS will have a fit if he does... I don't care if he doesn't want to come. Put him back on the toddler leash if you have to. Just bring him.'
Six appeared from a nearby juice bar. 'I had no idea. This is apple, pear, ginger, and carrot with ginseng. It is delicious. Why didn't someone tell Mel about this?' he muttered as he joined the group.
They moved off down the road, only stopping momentarily to prize Eight from the pet shop window and were gone.
After they had disappeared Percy sat back and stared at the remains of his breakfast. 'Well that was odd,' he said to himself.
'Yes they are a peculiar bunch,' said a voice from the next table.
With a sinking feeling Percy looked over. The Master took a sip of his latte and smiled. 'Just thought I'd introduce myself before I start trying to kill you.'
...................
I do apologise for the obligatory 'lets see how many Doctors and their cliches we can cram into one story' and for the 'for you it's a television show/but oh my it is also real - what are the odds' elements of the story, but it amused me and that is the main thing.
And for those who don't know Sylvester McCoy is not his real name. He was born Percy James Kent-Smith.
He tried to pull it off, but that only hurt. He tried to bite it off, but that only hurt more and made it start to bleed.
He sighed: 'Admit it Percy. You are nervous. And sitting in a café in Basingstoke chewing your nails when isn't going to accomplish anything,' he thought to himself as he looked at his untouched breakfast.
'No it's not, is it?' said a loud voice in his ear, startling him.
'But it can't hurt, can it' said another voice in his other ear.
'What do mean? Just look at that thumb? said the first voice.
'Have some more tea old chap. That will make you feel better,' said third voice.
'That bun looks nice,' said a fourth.
Percy looked up and his eyes widened in amazement. Standing around him were an assortment of Doctors? Either that or they had got all the actors who had ever played him to pull some horrible practical joke, but there was Billy Hartnell and wasn't he dead?
'Patrick Troughton', 'Bill Hartnell' and 'Jon Pertwee' were looking down at him in concern, while 'Colin Baker' was currently eating his currant bun and 'Tom Baker' was eyeing off his orange juice with a mad sort of gleam in his eyes.
'Oh no,' he thought. 'I've gone mad.'
Patrick? - patted him reassuringly on the back. 'No you haven't. It's all real. Just think of it as a bit odd. That one always works for me,' he said smiling.
'And that is meant to make him feel better is it you nitwit?' retorted a man who looked exactly like Jon Pertwee.
'Shut UP you two' yelled someone from the back. 'Let me through. This one is mine thankyou' he bellowed as he swatted Doctors aside with his battered Panama.
Percy looked up at the newcomer and gasped.
The newcomer beamed at him. 'Yes it is a little odd, but I will explain, '
He then plonked himself down on a seat.
'I won't bore you with all the technical gobbledygook,' he said as he reached over and stole Percy's tea. For some reason, that no one has ever been able to explain - relative dimensions/freak web of time thingie/someone inversed the revision of the neutron flow/yada yada yada, I - that is we - are somehow inexorably linked to the BBC. Whomever they choose to play the Doctor determines, well - us - and what we look like,' he said as he gestured at a man who looked exactly like 'Peter Davison'.
But then 'Peter' smiled at him and suddenly he knew deep down that this man definitely wasn't Peter.
Suddenly 'Peter' fixed him with an intense stare. 'I say old chap. Do you want that scone?'
Percy could only shake his head mutely.
'Thanks awfully,' said 'Peter' as he started to smother it with jam and cream.
Percy's doppelganger smiled. 'Yes. That is Number Five. He was very pleased they picked Tristan.'
'We can be very vain sometimes,' said 'Patrick' looking pointedly at 'Jon', but 'Jon' merely sighed and mumbled 'get over it,' under his breath.
'And because you are going to be me, I am you. So we all thought we should pop around and say congrats and all that.'
'But I haven't got the job yet. I am still waiting to find out,' he said ashen faced.
The little man frowned and took out a gold pocket watch out of a truly awful vest adorned with little red question marks. 'Mmmmm, we're early,' he said menacingly to Five who merely smiled sheepishly through a mouthful of scone.
'Oh well. I think you can take it as a given,' said the seated man with a knowing smile.
Then he stood up and addressed the throng of Doctors. 'Come on chaps. Stop squabbling. Yes we can visit the zoo, the cricket ground and the Brigadier, but first breakfast. No jelly babies do not count. What do you mean you're not hungry now?' he admonished as he herded them off.
He counted them off: 'One, two three four five six. Six? Six where are you?' he yelled. 'Someone find Six - and get Eight away from that pet shop window before he buys a puppy. The TARDIS will have a fit if he does... I don't care if he doesn't want to come. Put him back on the toddler leash if you have to. Just bring him.'
Six appeared from a nearby juice bar. 'I had no idea. This is apple, pear, ginger, and carrot with ginseng. It is delicious. Why didn't someone tell Mel about this?' he muttered as he joined the group.
They moved off down the road, only stopping momentarily to prize Eight from the pet shop window and were gone.
After they had disappeared Percy sat back and stared at the remains of his breakfast. 'Well that was odd,' he said to himself.
'Yes they are a peculiar bunch,' said a voice from the next table.
With a sinking feeling Percy looked over. The Master took a sip of his latte and smiled. 'Just thought I'd introduce myself before I start trying to kill you.'
...................
I do apologise for the obligatory 'lets see how many Doctors and their cliches we can cram into one story' and for the 'for you it's a television show/but oh my it is also real - what are the odds' elements of the story, but it amused me and that is the main thing.
And for those who don't know Sylvester McCoy is not his real name. He was born Percy James Kent-Smith.